


Bed of Roses

by Masters_Brat



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ;), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Deal with a Devil, Drama & Romance, F/M, First Kiss, Gangster Levi, I made a weird mix of both Gangster and Mobster?, Italian Mafia, Levi is getting his way with this one, Rough Kissing, Sort Of, Tea Shop Owner Reader, also, idek, it's a modern day gang tho so, like I give a fuck, pretty sure Levi is OOC in this one but, winkwonk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 06:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masters_Brat/pseuds/Masters_Brat
Summary: Losing your entire life to the man sitting before you had never struck you as a smart decision. But losing your teashop to circumstances out of your control left you with no other choice but to change your perception of that particular thought. Hoping everything would remain the same between you even after this proposition was formed, you laid it all out, expecting only his compliance and acceptance.But when had Levi Ackerman gone out of his way for charity? No matter who you were to him, or what you were, where business was concerned? He would gladly take advantage of it, no matter what.
Relationships: Levi & Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 140





	Bed of Roses

There was something eerily beautiful about the deadly man before you. There was no doubt he frightened you -that stare, gunmetal eyes that shot through your heart until it reached your soul, killing you quickly, mercilessly. The way he carried himself -he knew who he was, what he was, the power he held. The way he did things not out of petty hatred or silly needs and notions, but out of a cunning knowledge to get things done -his way, of course, there could be no other way. There wasn't a person in the city that didn't know him, or at least heard of him. Yes, some feared him. But some respected him. People with power usually caused one or the other to stir within peoples hearts, minds, souls. And while you felt all those things when staring at the man, there was more, so much more your being felt when taking all of his splendor in.

He sat back on his chair, the only object in between the two of you a polished oak desk. Unless you counted the silent duo standing by the door holding cleverly hidden weapons beneath their suits. "You caved in," he stated, almost smug. 

You stayed quiet, not even bothering to dignify that with an answer. What could you say to that anyway? He said nothing about your silence, merely chuckled in delight. The other two in the room slightly shifted, as if caught off-guard by the sound. You wondered why. He was always either chuckling or smirking while in your presence. It was nothing new.

Crossing sinuous legs, he let his weight fall further on his seat. "So. To what do I owe this honor?"

You wasted no time, said, "I'm closing the teashop." Truly, it was the only reason for breaking the vow you'd taken long ago: to never ask anything of him, to never be in debt with the man, to never seek for his assistance with things you could solve. This, however, was something beyond you. 

His eyes lost that mischievous, smug look, blank stare potent on your form as his smirk vanished. Fingers across his lips, he said, "No, you're not."

"Let me rephrase," you grunted out, rummaging through your purse for the documents you'd received a while ago. "I'm being forced to close the shop," and you threw the damn thing on the desk, anger and frustration clear in your tone. He gingerly took the scattered papers and scanned them slowly, meticulously. While he did so you spoke up again. "For three weeks I've hold on to them, decided to call it a bluff," you bit out, hands desperately gripping your purse wanting to choke someone instead. 

"You were wrong," he stated plain and simple. And you nodded because it was the truth. A harsh one, but the truth nonetheless. "What happened?"

This time you reached for your phone, hurriedly unlocking it, handing it over to him once you found what you wanted him to see. Seven images, all depicting the destruction of your shop. Your beloved shop, the one you'd inherited from your father to take care of, to have it flourish further, the one place you'd met the individual sitting before you now. The place was your life -how could they be so cruel and take it away like that over a grudge they had with him?

He handed back the phone, placed the documents away in his desk. The action had you frowning. It deepened when he stood, hands busy wiping away the imaginary grime they had accumulated while touching the items on his handkerchief. You knew the man's habit, it wasn't why your frown had deepened. "Gunther, Erd," he called, "have Petra and Oluo bring us a tray. We'll be next door." 

"Sir," they said in unison, quickly following orders. 

He held the door open for you once they were gone. "After you."

What he had in mind, you had no idea. You wouldn't question him now, however, not when there was a possibility he would help with your situation, so out you went, following behind once he took the lead. Next door turned out to be a bit further away than his office, but true to his word it was right by it. Once in you couldn't help but whistle lowly at the sheer luxury the room radiated. It was a reception of sorts, a room you supposed he had his guests wait for him while he finished conducting business with others. That or he brought his clients over here to discuss further business, who knew. 

He went to the side and through a set of glass doors, leading to a private, gracious patio, pool, jacuzzi and bar included. Crickets chirping were a faraway sound that barely graced your hearing thanks to the soft music coming from cleverly hidden stereos around the place. He made way towards the padded sofa nestled close to the fire pit, waited until you sat to take his place next to you. 

He crossed his legs, hands fixing the lapels of his suit jacket before staring your way. "I'm sure an empty apology won't cut it so I'll aim to make it worth your while." He took out his cellphone, immediately dialed a number. He set it on speaker mode while he drew even closer to your form, arm poised behind the sofa.

"Boss," spoke a woman you were familiar with from the times she'd visited your shop with him.

"Got a new hunt for you."

"Give me a name and I'll have them ready for you," she replied. 

He did, even provided the address where she could find them. "Oh and Mikasa?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure he gets there alive. I've got a few, ah, things to discuss." 

"Certainly."

Your intake of breath was not lost on him. You hadn't been able to help it, though. You knew what he was about to do, and while flattering in its own cruel way, it was still a scary affair to even think about. "You don't have to," was your whispered reply.

His eerie smile had your skin break in goosebumps. "I know I don't." He leaned closer, closer still, until his lips brushed your cheek from how near he was. "I want to."

You closed your eyes while exhaling a deep, sudden breath, hand itching to either push the man away or pull him in, you weren't quite sure what your body wanted to do. Not while in the presence of such a magnetic, powerful energy. "Mr. Ackerman, I-"

"Flower of mine, call me Levi."

Eyes that snapped open centered on his, forgetting for an instant just who was the man invading your personal space. Did you dare cross that line? That imaginary boundary you hadn't crossed in fear you'd find yourself even more drawn to him than you needed to be? Over two years you'd made damn sure you respected that invisible line, and you were proud of yourself for having endured. But now, you wondered. Would this problem of yours manage to tear it apart, tear everything you'd worked so hard for to maintain? 

You feared the answer was already there, a certain yes popping inside your mind without any hassle whatsoever. Licking dry lips you uttered in a desperate release of breath, "I don't know if I should."

It had him smirking. "Ever the stubborn one." A lone digit traced your cheek, stealing what was left of your breath away. "We're about to go into business, you should grant me that respect while we conduct it."

Your snort had his brow raise. "You let everyone you 'conduct business with' address you so formally?"

That got a smile out of him. "Such a perceptive and clever girl," he chuckled, finger trailing lower to your lips. "Not many earn that honor, I can assure you."

"And yet you're bestowing it upon me."

Again he chuckled. "Hn, maybe I'm just after my own selfish purposes." Of course. Though honestly? That was more like him. Gunmetal clashed against your eyes, stare hard and full of many things that confused your restless heart. "Maybe what I want is to hear you say it after so long of denying my advances."

Your heart fluttered. "You and I both know why that had to be done."

"You and I are also aware of how little I care about what others might think or say."

"Why me?" you suddenly asked, curious to no end. What had he seen in you that he couldn't just forget about you as quickly as he did his other flings? Why were you so special in that regard?

"Why not you?" was his vague answer. "You're beautiful, smart, loyal. Those traits are hard to come by nowadays." 

Which begged the question. "Is this what you say to all your conquests before you bed them?" The sarcasm and disbelief were potent in that question, but he let it slide. 

Instead he smirked, said, "Would you like to find out?"

Damn this man. You couldn't help but shake your head in exasperation at his attitude. "Why must you always be like this?"

"Like what?"

"Impossible," you sighed, eyes diverting to the tempting lips that spoke so close to yours. 

"You know I don't stop until I get what I want."

"Like I said, impossible," you whispered, too entranced with the way his lips danced close to yours, a dance that burned every fiber of your being with the anticipation it was creating. 

"Come on, flower, say it," he coaxed, hand openly grabbing your cheek, pulling you right where he wanted you. 

And you almost did, the start of his name wooed out of you with his gentle yet strong persuasion, so close to coming to fruition -had a knock by the glass doors not interrupted right then. You jumped at the noise, almost bumping your nose with his. His annoyed sigh at the interruption had you biting your lip -in what, you couldn't tell. What the hell had almost happened? You'd been avoiding this for so long, you knew how bad it would be to get involved further with him. Deadly, dangerous, someone you could barely read even with the time you'd gotten to interact with him -it wasn't wise to feel any sort of attraction for him. And yet...

He stood and went for the door, giving you a small reprieve from his strong presence. Clearing your throat, you fixed your hair and straightened the nonexistent wrinkles from your clothes while he greeted whoever had been the knocker. Business, you were there for business only, not to get wrapped up in his presence like you almost had-

"Excuse the interruption. Tea's here." You swallowed back the groan you wanted to let out at the sight that greeted you -he'd taken off his jacket, unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt to show a bit of his chest. He was doing that on purpose, wasn't he. Confirming once again that he always got what he wanted whether you liked it or not. 

Dragging the small cart next to you, he set to prepare a cup of steaming tea for you. The sight was a strange one. Usually it was the other way around. "Thank you," you said once he handed the saucer and cup over. 

He sat back by your side, nursing a cup of his own. And for a few minutes that was all you did, drink your tea in silence, a silence so tense you could practically cut it with a knife. His eyes never left your form, openly taking in every inch of your body, melting you to the bone. He had always done so, back in your shop, but there it somehow hadn't affected you as much as it did here. You didn't know why that was. Maybe because here he had all the power? Maybe because you were vulnerable in every sense of the word? A mix of both? 

After a while he set his cup down and broke the uncomfortable silence. "So. About your shop." 

Yes, business. That's what you were there for. Not the usual- yet totally unusual- flirting you were both doing. Your cup joined his while you asked, "What will I owe you if you can get it fully repaired?"

"Twenty-five grand, minimum." 

You closed your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time, despaired at hearing the huge sum he had already totaled. You knew it would be expensive, all the other venues you'd tried had been evidence enough, but hearing it coming from his mouth somehow made it worse. "How long do you give your, um, clients to repay the full debt?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On who I'm dealing with and what will benefit us most."

You nodded in slight understanding -and a lot of trepidation. "Very well. And how long will you give me to pay you back in full?"

Placing his hand on his cheek, he stared at you. Stared hard. Then, "I think a better question is how will you pay me if you're temporarily out of a job?" 

Ouch, touche. Damn, though, he was right. How would you pay him? Being completely honest with yourself, you knew he could get your shop back in working order in just under a week. Supposing he started the countdown when the work was done, and he gave you but a month to pay, you knew you wouldn't be able to accumulate that amount of money in such a short time, especially with everything else you had to pay for in between -like bills and such. It wasn't like you had that much saved, either, if you had you wouldn't have been there to begin with. Not to mention the debt you already had with your student loans plus a small loan you'd had to make at the time for your then-sick father -it was looking grim, your future. 

You opened your mouth, closed it on a groan. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" you bit out, hands grasping your face in utter frustration. "Damn it all to hell!"

His soft hum, followed by his careful touch, calmed you down some, especially when he quietly uttered, "You can still back out. Leave, find some other way to get your shop repaired. I'll still solve our little rodent problem, I owe you that much. But if you wish to take your leave, now is your chance."

For your own sake, you tried to think of other immediate solutions to your problems. But you knew there was no other way -because you'd already exhausted all your other viable options before approaching him. Taking a deep, fortifying breath, you said, after you let your hands fall back on your lap, "Let's say you're the only option I have and I won't be able to pay you quick enough. What happens then?"

"We find alternatives that evens out the debt."

In other words, an alternative that'll not only benefit him but please him. Threading through very thin ice, you thought, fidgeting on the spot. Very dangerous territory you were skating on. "What can I do to fulfill it?" 

"You want me to sugarcoat it, sweetheart?"

You growled, "Tell it how it is." Brave words for someone who was scared shitless of loosing ground where this man was concerned. 

Your fear was not lost on him. However, neither was your reckless bravery. "Good girl," he smirked, quickly launching into the harshness of the deal you would have to comply with if you had no other means of payment. Full ownership of the shop -though you would still manage it by all accounts, you'd just have to answer to him. Revenue earned would be managed by him, though. You would not touch a single penny your store made unless he paid you -which you knew would be the bare minimum, the debt had to be paid somehow. On and on he went about legalities and such -such a proper man, despite his more, ah, crude affairs- but you suddenly stopped listening to him because damn, _damn_.

There was the sucker punch you'd been waiting for, the fear that had nagged you from the start blooming within the pits of your stomach. Your autonomy, your independence, your status as self-employer gone for good if you signed and sealed the deal. You had done everything in your power to try and avoid this, even going as far as thinking of playing dirty to bring your life back up -to no avail. No matter how much the man might like you, or you him, you had known he would not cut you some slack if you ever crossed this kind of path with him. You knew the risks that could potentially arise, _you knew_. Yet at the time you had felt desperate, no solution at hand bothering you more than what you could potentially have to endure. 

Now that you were there, though, with reality crashing back on you, you were second-guessing everything. "The shop was my father's," you whispered brokenly, a plead hiding behind the words. "He entrusted it to me when he passed away." 

"I shall take good care of it, I'm sure."

For some reason, that sentence had your anger flaring. Glaring daggers his way you bit out, "It's not fair! I wasn't involved with your shit, actively tried to stay away from it, from you! Now I have to pay the fucking consequences? Why can't you just gift me the repairs as the apology instead?"

His answer was callous, blunt. "How will I benefit from that?" 

Fucking hell, this man and his cunning mind had you wishing you hadn't fallen for him, _shit_. You huffed out a breath, eyes diverting to the still waters of the pool to detract from the pain that coursed through you. 

His hand gripped your chin a bit too harshly, bringing your eyes back to his. "Do not fault me for decisions that were not my own. I am here, I am answering your call, I will act accordingly. I, however, cannot let an opportunity like this go. I'm a man of business, after all, you know this." 

"Taking advantage of such a precarious situation is not business, Mr. Ackerman." You did not have to elaborate further, you knew he knew what you meant. 

"Then go ahead, take your leave if that is your wish. I am not coercing you into this. Your business will still be yours if you either find the exact amount required to pay the debt in time, or leave and find another way to repair the shop. Your choice, _Rosa_." 

His nickname for you -and his blatant annoyance- caused a potent shiver to course through you. It almost succeeded in intimidating you down to do just that, to leave, to never return and fall into a deeper pit than the one you were already in. A memory, a kind image of your father dancing with you inside that same shop when you were but a kid, fluttered to the surface of your consciousness, cheery smiles and laughter on a sunny day a balm your soul needed -a balm your strength required to pull through with this mad plan of yours. 

That building was the living, breathing memory of what you once had, that faithful and loving companionship a parent could provide seeped deep within its crumbling walls and ceiling. You couldn't abandon its fate to just about anyone, neither could you see it in decay while time progressed. It would live, it would thrive, it would see the light of day again if you had any say in it. You stubbornly bit through the idea he was posing, because in all honesty what you would personally relinquish could never compare to the thought of losing the only reminder you had of better lived days.

You would do whatever it took to fulfill your father's last, dying wish. 

There was fire behind your lids when you gritted out, "So be it."

He was taken aback slightly, and damn did that make you feel proud at yourself for the resilience you put forth into the world. "My, my, flower, aren't you full of surprises this evening."

You scoffed. "Oh hush. Just bring the damn contract over. Let's get this show on the road."

"Tut-tut," he shushed you, finger and all pressed against your lips, "I'm not done with my conditions." 

You couldn't help it, you threw your hands up in the air, beyond aggravated. "What more could someone who has it all want from me?"

"You know what," were his implied words.

That stopped you short. "Is- is this a joke?"

His hand was back against your cheek, holding it so gently, firmly grasping it when he breathed, "You'll soon find that I am not a man that jokes around."

You stared at him. Gawked, really. What else could you do? "Mr. Ackerman, I-"

His growl caught you by surprise. So did his hand pulling you all the way to his face, lips but a hairsbreadth away. "Everything. I want everything you've denied me. Your touch, your lips, your body- _all of it_." A whimper from you, a grunt from him. Then, "Mine, to do as I say, as I please, to indulge me when the time is fucking right-" he couldn't finish that sentence. Not when his lips clashed maddeningly against yours. 

At first you couldn't react, his words a daunting imagery swimming behind your mind's eye. But when he found a spectacular way of having you open up to him -his tongue had made a path over and around your closed mouth- you let out an involuntary gasp that proved to be your end. Once open he wasted no time. His tongue met with yours frenetically, passionately entangling itself with yours on a mad dash to get what he never could before. Body reacting to his powerful energy, it caved in so sweetly -all you could do was follow his lead and let him take what you hadn't freely given in the first place. 

You groaned when he pushed your body back against the sofa, when he pinned you down by the waist, holding your neck tightly so you could not escape the onslaught he was unleashing. He ate you whole through that kiss, mouths clashing in ugly synchronization, enjoying the hunger finally released upon the other. It had you wondering why you'd held back from him to begin with. 

Fire having died down, the need for air breaking you apart not by much, he trailed little nips here and there, enjoying the little mewls you released to his ministrations. " _Che bellezza, Rosa_ ," his mother tongue broke through, a rare occurrence with your temporary cage, so to speak. " _Che delizia_ ," he passionately stated once his mouth settled back on yours, a slower kiss placed upon your now bruised ones. And right then? You could care less. Not when his talented mouth was giving you the kiss of a lifetime. 

Something nagged at you, though. Something that very much had to do with this contract of his. Distancing yourself from him -albeit slightly- you said, in between agitated breaths, "I'm not about to be a mindless doll for you. Just so we're clear."

He smirked. "And that is not what I'm after. Your freedom, that fire, your authenticity will remain intact. I will not have you any other way."

"Good," you nodded. Which brought another important tidbit you needed to discuss. "How long do I have to be yours until the debt is satisfied?" Apart from his other, less personal, conditions. 

"A year," was his immediate reply. 

And while you groaned and closed your eyes in frustration at the answer, you knew you would go through it, through this, as long as it met your ultimate wish. You nodded, whispered, "Very well."

"Oh, _Rosa_ ," he whispered back at you, "there's nothing to fear. You shall always be safe with me."

That's not what I fear, old man, you thought, but remained quiet. "Go get the damn contract," you said instead, wanting to get this over with. 

A snap of his fingers caused a shadow to move at the side, and it was then you noticed you hadn't been alone all this time. Your spectacular display of affection had been witnessed by the same two men that had been in his office earlier. Of course you would blush, of course you would hide away within the crook of his neck. Embarrassment would do that to a gal, you supposed. 

He just chuckled, amused at your reaction. Fiddling with your hair, he asked, "More tea before we go through the papers?"

"I'm alright," you sighed, enraptured by his alluring scent. Damn, did he always smell this good? "Thank you, Mr. Ack-"

"Now, now," he reprimanded slightly, interrupting you. "I think we're past formalities already." 

"And I think you need to earn that bit of respect instead of trying to coax it out of me, _Mr. Ackerman_."

Your feistiness brought back the fire behind his eyes. A smirk, then, "Careful, _Rosa_ , playing with fire is dangerous around here."

"Bring it on," you bit out, staring right at those two pools of burning lust.

And he would bring it on, through the days and months that would come, through the time you would belong to him. It would be a wild ride, you could feel it, especially when he leaned closer and grunted against your lips, "Don't you worry, I'll make you scream my name soon enough." 

Gods above, what the hell did you get yourself into? 

**Author's Note:**

> So uh. Hi. Small note to state that yes, I am back, yes, I am working on my unfinished projects, and yes, I am in a healthier state of mind where I can keep on pursuing my writing and editing goals. I pray it remains so for a long, loooong time to come. 
> 
> While I get that in order, however, I did spruce up this little story which I hope you enjoy. I can feel it's all over the place, but at the same time I love how it came to be and after many months of not writing I am very proud of it and myself for breaking through, finally. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for giving my works a go! It truly does mean the world to me.


End file.
